Green Fairway Fantasies (L)

The rain hammered against the roof of the Tallwood Hills clubhouse, a relentless percussion accompanying the thumping bass from the nearby pool party. Inside, Mel adjusted the ruffles on her golf skirt, a vibrant cerulean that perfectly complemented her tanned skin and the way the light caught the metallic gleam of her Titleist visor. Across the walk-in closet, I leaned into her, my hand sliding between her legs, tracing the curve of her thighs before pausing just above the fabric. The air hung thick with anticipation, a potent blend of expensive cologne, rain-soaked hair, and the unspoken promise of the evening ahead.

“Save it for the course,” she murmured, spinning around to offer me a quick, playful kiss before turning her attention back to the mirror. Her spunk, as she always called it, was a constant source of both delight and frustration. Tonight, it felt particularly charged, fueled by the knowledge of the night’s potential.

As I watched her transform, transforming from a poised woman into a confident athlete, I couldn't help but notice the coordinated effort. The plaid shorts, the light blue polo, the matching hat – it was a deliberate display, a silent invitation to indulge in the pleasure of her presence. It wasn't just about the golf; it was about the performance, the allure.

Pulling into the parking lot, the familiar sight of the Traverse SUV felt comforting amidst the chaos of the party. Mel slid her hand into my lap, her touch sending a jolt through my system. We hopped out, playfully chasing each other towards the cart, the rain plastering our hair to our faces. As we wheeled the cart out of its spot, she rubbed the front of my shorts, a subtle act of dominance that ignited a spark within me.

Cindy, the beer gal, greeted us with a genuine smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two look amazing!” she exclaimed, gesturing towards my protruding member, which was now quite clearly outlined by my boxers. A blush crept up my neck as I realized she’d noticed. The attention was both exhilarating and slightly unnerving.

Our friend Kathy, already a little tipsy from the party atmosphere, burst out of the clubhouse, laughing hysterically. She hugged us both with surprising force, nearly sending us tumbling off the cart. “God, I love Tallwood’s Fashion Night!” she shrieked, her words slurring slightly. “Don’t you two look amazing?!” Before she could finish, she spun us around, taking advantage of our unbalanced state, and gave me a side-hip, wraparound hug. Her husband, Brent, emerged from the clubhouse, nodding his approval. “Just hoping you two drew us to golf with tonight,” he mumbled, clearly eager to join the festivities.

The Friday couples night at Tallwood Hills was usually a relaxed affair, but the annual Fashion Night was an entirely different beast. Couples went all out, vying for the top prize – a hefty $500 – by dressing in their most impressive and provocative golf attire. The competition was fierce, the stakes high.

As our pairings were announced, we were assigned Jennifer and Allen, two married insurance company owners about 20 years apart in age. They had a reputation for consensual infidelities, adding an element of intrigue to our potential encounter. Besides, they were decent golfers, a quality we greatly appreciated.

Brent and Kathy, looking slightly worse for wear, announced their departure from the front nine, leaving us with the overflow group. We raced out towards the back nine, nearly colliding as we navigated the crowded fairways. Our group started on #16, with no one ahead of us and six couples trailing behind.

“Top prize is $500,” Allen said, extending his hand for a handshake. “Let’s have some fun and see what happens.”

Jennifer, a striking blonde with an enhanced chest, and Mel teed off first, both relatively new to golf but showing promise. The game was alternate shot, so we simply sat in the cart, observing our partners and strategizing. Jennifer’s sharp wit and playful demeanor made her a delight to be around, and she and Mel were already chuckling as they walked back to their carts.

“Nice shot,” I said, squeezing Mel’s thigh as our partners wheeled off.

She leaned over, kissing me quickly before turning her attention back to the game. “She’s delightful.”

The chemistry between us, coupled with the relaxed atmosphere of the event, fueled a potent blend of lust and desire. As we shared two shots of Fireball courtesy of Cindy, the beer gal, I couldn’t help but feel a growing excitement, a sense of anticipation for the evening ahead.

As we approached the 18th hole, the rain began to intensify, soaking us to the bone. We finished the round, feeling a surge of adrenaline and exhaustion, and headed back to the clubhouse to change and restock our coolers. The atmosphere in the clubhouse was electric, filled with the chatter of golfers, the clinking of glasses, and the scent of expensive cologne.

Mel stopped to inquire about something from Cindy, holding us up while Allen and Jennifer headed down the long path to the tee box. We watched them go, a shared sense of anticipation hanging in the air. The tension was palpable, as if everyone in the room was waiting for something to happen.

Pulling the cart towards the grove of trees, the ravine, and Ridge Creek, I felt a surge of excitement. The 100-yard trek through the woods was a welcome distraction from the other couples. As we approached the tee box, the rain intensified, creating a surreal and sensual environment.

Mel abruptly stopped the cart at the bottom of the ravine, centering it on the bridge and sliding over, almost standing straight up on my side. Before I could react, she slipped her panties down and shimmied them off her legs as she pulled at my shorts, tugging the button loose and forcing the zipper apart. Her hand reached down first, grabbing my shaft with the tip between her first finger and thumb.

She bent over at the waist, her ponytail brushing my cheek, chest, and then resting against my stomach. As she squatted, she slipped her head between her lips, her cool, clear pre-cum coating her mouth. The sensation was electric, igniting a fire within me.

Suddenly, Mel stopped and spun her body around, transferring my cock to her other hand as she hovered bare-ass, her skirt pulled up above her belly button. As she lowered with precision, her hand guided my hardening shaft to her warmth and slipped it inside, her weight slowly letting me find her depths. “Ooooooh,” she said in a breathy whisper as my hips rose to keep the slide going. My length fought for every fraction as I continued to swell.

“Baby, bounce,” I said in her ear before kissing her neck. My hands wrapped around to find her breasts.

Like an old-time steam engine warming its pistons, she slid up slowly, pausing at the top, and slid back down. She did this a few times before speeding upward and dropping down again. She began to add some forward and back movement, extending the time and motion, lengthening the slide. Lastly, she twisted some, going back to front and front to back before rising. The combination of moves brought my orgasm along quickly.

I became aware of my surroundings again as I heard someone shout up at the clubhouse. I thought, “The other group can’t be there already,” and switched my focus back to Mel’s hips and sweet warmth riding my cock. Her skirt had hiked up so much that I could see myself entering and sliding out at the top of her ride as she pulled away before beginning each descent.

She paced the distance with incredible speed, and I felt the end cumming and building up. She was cooing and letting out little gasps and squeals with every thrust back. I felt tempted to change positions but realized I needed to finish before someone did come down the path. I moved my hands from inside her shirt and pulled her down by her hips, holding her there, letting my cum fly in two pronounced spurts and then three smaller ones. “JESUS, YES!” I said in a loud whisper in her ears.

She turned and kissed me, my cock still inside her body, before hopping off and gathering herself. She slid her skirt down while I buttoned up, trying to keep any wetness off the outside of my shorts. The plaid would cover it up, I figured. She hopped back on the cart, and we sped up the path.

“You know I didn’t get mine, right?” Mel pointed out what I obviously knew after 25 years of marriage. She didn’t prefer getting it from behind as she maintains it doesn’t hit her spot. “I may not be done with you.”

“Get lost?” Jennifer giggled at Mel, who just shrugged and pointed at me like I had done something at the clubhouse. Jennifer pursed her lips to the first knuckle on her hand before saying. “I think you two were off somewhere.”

I made the quick excuse that we had to veer off the path and go to the Traverse to get a bottle, plausible because we had parked close to where the paths split. As I got off the cart and went to my bag, I pulled out an old bottle of Black Velvet. “I thought I’d save us some money on shots this round.”

Mel shot me a half-grin—somewhat curiously, I thought, as this was an amazing cover, and she should be proud of my quick thinking. I stood with Allen as the girls teed off, both spending some time chatting with each other and laughing. At one point, Jennifer looked back at me before they finished talking and finally teed off.

We finished with a birdie and par, and I felt very good about our chances, so much so that another couple knowing what we just did was the furthest thing from my mind. We went to put our clubs and cart away when Mel said, “Hey, I want to hit some balls in the back yard this week. Could we load mine up real quick.”

I swung around to the parking lot and stopped the cart in front of our SUV in the back corner. I pulled the bag off while she opened the back, but when I carried it around, she wasn’t behind the vehicle. She was already inside, lying on the floorboard with her legs spread.

“You were so fucking sexy tonight,” I told her, my hands pushing her hair back as my hips searched to enter her. I pressed forward, finding her, and soon I was inside. Kissing, nibbling her neck and ears, I began to push deeper, pulling back just a little, pushing deeper, allowing for more blood to rush where needed, filling her with my flesh. I can’t say I made it to full strength, but it was almost there as I began to work her, pumping in and out.

She continued to exclaim on each thrust, so I didn’t change anything as my desire slowly increased. She started yelling and pushing back against my thrusts, on her elbows with her head up.

“Donnie!!!!” She came as I collapsed on her back, pushing further in and depositing my load. She held her breath to absorb the force each time I thrust. My torso leaned back, and I watched her skin wrap around my cock—widening, then pressing closer as I brought my tip out before pushing in all the way. My length fought for every fraction as I continued to swell.

As we got back to the clubhouse, we changed our clothes and headed to the back yard for some more golf. We found our partners, Allen and Jennifer, and we all settled in, ready for more fun. Allen offered us some shots of Fireball, which we happily accepted, and the atmosphere became even more relaxed. The rain continued to fall, adding to the sensual ambiance of the evening. The world faded away, replaced by the warmth of Mel’s body, the scent of rain-soaked grass, and the electric thrill of the game.

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